


An Act in Three Parts

by AthanasiaAlGhul



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman Beyond, Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Damian is an Assassin again, M/M, Prince Damian Wayne, Queen Talia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-06 00:21:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthanasiaAlGhul/pseuds/AthanasiaAlGhul
Summary: When Damian receives a gift from his Grandfather on Christmas he does not expect to drawn back into the life he had left. Leaving his family and new friend and partner Jon, Damian must face all his old demons and meet a few new ones.ORI took the premise of the beginning of Teen Titans Rebirth and combined it with the 2016 Christmas special and made it sad.





	An Act in Three Parts

* * *

 

 

Part One

Dead Robin

 

* * *

 

Damian watched with faint amusement at the gathering currently taking place at Wayne manor. Since his father and Superman had been trying to teach him and Jon to get along and work together the Kent and Wayne families had begun combining holidays. Take tonight for example, they had decided to celebrate Christmas together and were going to go to the Kent’s farm house, but when Dick got wind he invited himself, Tim and Jason. So, as a result they decided to move the festivities to theirs and prepared enough food to feed a small army. Presents were piled under the tree and there was a general sense of jubilance in the air.

 

The Kent family was wearing matching sweaters, Lois having brought her homemade apple pie that Damian was currently enjoying a piece of. Clark and Bruce were talking over some drinks while Tim and Dick kept Jon entertained. Jason, like Damian stood a little apart from the group and was enjoying a glass of deep amber liquid.Alfred was currently serving Titus and Alfred the cat some snacks and Goliath was hovering near the humongous and frankly ridiculous Christmas Tree, lightly snoozing.It felt odd to have the manor so full of life. Not full in the way his father’s parties were, with the rich socialites and their shallow words and dismissive attitudes, but with people with genuine affection and concern with each other. Damian jumped from the chair he was sitting on, putting his plate to the side and heading to the balcony.

 

The winter air had a sharp chill but it was comforting. Damian never imagined ever experiencing something like this. Celebrating holidays like were never a part of the Al Ghul clan’s agenda, instead they were more likely to have a day dedicated to celebrate a first kill or raiding a certain temple. And his father would always be the Batman first and a father second, prone to forgetting his son’s birthday but remembering to ensure he had all his gear before a patrol.

 

After taking a deep breath he stepped back from the railing but something caught his eye, staring out into the grounds he couldn’t see what captured his eye. Figuring it was just an animal Damian relaxed his stance but lingered to give the area another quick sweep before returning to the party. Once inside Jon immediately pounced on him, ugly Christmasbriefly making the young billionaire flinch at how horrid it was.

 

“Hey, Dami! Guess what?! I asked our parents and they said we could open one of our presents now instead of waiting until tomorrow morning!” The ten year-old’s smile was wide and his blue eyes shinning with an innocent excitement that was almost too hard for the young vigilante to handle.

 

“TT,” Damian scoffed, “Sounds satisfactory, have you chosen your present yet?”

 

“Yeah, I’m gonna open the one from you!” Jon replies with an easy lop-sided grin.

 

Damian looks down, but is unable to stop the small smile that spreads across his face, “I guess I shall reciprocate and open the one you got for me. It would be the most appropriate.”

 

Jon just gave him another huge beaming grin.

 

Everyone was already gathered by the tree, Dick with the biggest shit-eating grin and Tim was smirking.Damian glared at them both but allowed himself to be pulled in front of the tree by Jon who was grinning as he handed out the chosen gifts. Jon quickly ripped the paper off and gasped holding up the Monk-E-Monsters Interactive system spinning to look at Damian with surprised delight.

 

“It was sold out everywhere! How’d you get it?” The krptonian asked with wonder.

 

The young vigilante shrugged, smug smirk already in placed, “I was taught never to let anything get in the way of that which I desire. Of course I got one.”

 

Jon just laughed and Damian quickly added “It’ll also help with your strategic training.”

 

That earned him a frown from the young Kryptonian but he found he didn’t mind much. Lois was taking the obligatory Christmas photo of Jon with his present and Dick was laughing with Tim, while his father and Alfred just looked fondly on the scene. Damian had reached forward for his gift when he noticed a package in all black wrapping paper that he had not previously noted.

 

“Hold on...” Damian distractedly pushed away Jon’s gift that the super boy was attempting to pass him. He felt a twinge of regret catching a glimpse of how the other boy’s face fell but with an increasing sense of urgency and dread he opened the box. Inside lay a dead robin, it’s blood splattered against its feathers and a letter placed alongside it.

 

Damian picked up the letter, breaking the wax seal, the insignia depressingly recognizable.

 

“What is is, son?” He heard his father ask, words already tense. The young detective suspected his father already had a correct assumption on where the letter had come from.

 

“You’re only alive because I have allowed it. Come home. The time has come for you to return and to fulfill your legacy. Or die.” Damian read the letter aloud without a single emotion being betrayed on his face or in his tone. Placing the letter back in the box, he turned to address his father, “It would appear that Grandfather’s ‘holiday spirit’ has run its course. I suspect my last encounter the Teen Titans and I had with the League did not endear him to me.”

 

Picking up the box, shooing away a curious Alfred-the-cat, he walked over to the human Alfred, “Pennyworth could you put this aside for me. I would like to bury the robin later.”

 

“Of course, Master Damian.” The butler’s face was solemn as he accepted it.

 

Jon looked curious and confused, but obviously was reading the tension in the room from the adults.

 

Attempting to lift his spirits Damian said, “I did tell you my mother once killed my geology teacher before I could complete my degree. It’s of no concern-death threats are quite common from my mother’s side of the family. I mean she even had _me_ killed once.”

 

Seeing that this had the opposite effect, with the younger boy looking even more frightened and an even more oppressive atmosphere settling over the gathered party. Unused to being so concerned with other peoples _feelings,_ Damian tried again.

 

“Come on I didn’t get you that game to _not_ beat you at it tonight. Let’s play before you get sent to bed.”

 

His teasing tone seemed enough to entice a competitive gleam in Jon’s bright eyes, “Please, you’re not good at _everything,_ Bat-boy.”

 

“We shall see.” Damian replied picking up the gaming system, “We can go to the game room to play.”

 

With his other hand he pulled the other boy up andnodded at his father.

 

They spent the hours playing and of course Damian won more than half of the rounds, having actually read the manual before they had started and knew all the attack combos and defensive manouvers. When Lois came to tell them it was time for bed, Jon and Damian headed to his room, the younger boy whined a bit, but it only took one look from his mother to have him scurrying along after the older boy. Damian watched their exchange with amusement and after they had settled beside each other, the bed big enough at least two more people of their size, the younger boy turned to him with thinly veiled concern.

 

“That letter you got tonight was from your grandfather?”

 

“Yeah” Damian’s answer was simple for such a complicated matter.

 

“Are- are you going to be okay?” Jon’s voice sounded impossibly tiny as he peeked at Damian from under the covers.

 

“Yeah. I mean I have the skills to handle anything he throws at me.” The older boy paused, “I also have talented allies.”

 

Jon smiled at that, “That’s true...night, Dami.”

 

“Goodnight, Jon.”

 

....

 

Unfortunately, Damian never got the chance to celebrate the genuine ‘Christmas Morning’ that Grayson had desired when in the middle of the night he felt a soft hand on his cheek. He tensed, one hand already gripping the offending wrist and the other gripping the blade hidden between his pillows.

 

“Ssh, my darling. It is only I, your mother.” Talia’s voice was soft, the hand not caught in Damian’s grip pushing back her hood to allow the moonlight to reveal her familiar features. He felt a mix of emotions like he always did since his death and subsequent resurrection. The deep affection he had for his mother would never fade, spurred by the memories of affection, soft caresses and whispered dreams, but he could not forget the things she had done to him and those he cared about. It was hard even to forgive when she claimed to have gotten pass the darkness and ruthless ambition that had caused her to order his death when all Damian could remember vividly at the sight of her, begging for her to call off her creature and stop the madness she had unleashed on Gotham.

 

Her familiar green eyes softened as Damian released her and he quickly checked on his friend. The younger boy lay sleeping soundly, thin chest rising and falling with even breaths and simply ridiculous cowlick curling on his forehead. With a rising sense of dread he slipped from the bed and followed his mother’s retreating figure. As Damian shadowed Talia through the window and across the sprawling snow covered grounds, avoiding the security system alarms, he made a note that if he ever saw his father again he would inform of these failings.

 

Talia only paused when they reached the rocks on the cliff, the water sloshed against the stones frothy and chilly and Damian had to repress the urge to shiver, dressed only in his thin sleep clothes. Although he had been trained to endure all types of weather and environments, the cold had always been the one he had tolerated the least.

 

“What do you need, Talia?” Damian said, tone cold and short and he repressed the small emotion that arose at the sight of the flash of pain that went through his mother’s eyes.

 

“Son, I’ve only come because of my love for you. Last time we spoke, I warned you of the Demon’s Fist’s intentions on you and your comrades. Ra’s patience grows thin. The warning he sent you tonight, it _is_ the final warning.”

 

“-tt-“, Damian scoffed, covering the worry inspired by his mother’s words, “Has Mara’s blind obedience not pleased him? If I remember correctly Grandfather once stated my lack of loyalty as one of my biggest flaws.”

 

His mother frowned, “Loyalty is precious. However, uninspired obedience that cannot think for itself is not appreciated in a heir.”

 

“So, I am to be the true heir? Not simply a vessel for Grandfather now?” Damian said sneering, “I hope you aren’t surprised to hear that I find that hard to believe, Talia.”

 

“Beloved.” His mother knelt in front of him, green eyes misty with unshed tears that the ex-assassin didn’t want to believe, “Please come back…I cannot lose you again.”

 

Damian wanted to spitefully point out that she had only truly _lost_ him after disowning him for wanting to be a hero and later having him killed for the same reason. But, looking in her eyes the words she had spoken during his Year of Redemption cameback to him, about having her mind cleared and realizing her mistakes concerning him. He had told his father that Talia was dead to him and Damian hadn’t been lying…only seeing her again, talking to her for more then a few moments he realized something. His mother; beautiful, dangerous, and ruthless, she still had her faults but she loved him and he could see that now.

 

Her love did not prevent her from hurting him, his childhood proved that. However, Damian had to admit she mostly likely did seek him at the Wayne manor because she was _that_ worried, otherwise coming so far on his father’s territory would have been something too reckless for even her to do.

 

“They will follow if I leave with you.” Damian felt hopeless, grasping for a reason why he should stay with his father…with his true family.

 

Talia’s eyes gained a steely edge that he was more familiar with. She knew him well and she knew she had him, “Then you must convince them of your choice, my son.”

 

She stood, pressing something on her wrist, Damian could see a faint light from a boat waiting in the water blink in response, “I will be waiting at the edge of the city. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding me.”

 

And with those words she was gone. Jumping over the edge and into the darkness. A journey eerily similar to what was now required of Damian.

 

…

 

Damian did not go to sleep again. He sat at his easel, a throw blanket wrapped around himself watching the sun rise. The sound of Jon’s soft snores were oddly comforting, even though he usually complained about the habit. Titus lay by his feet while Alfred had established a comfortable place for himself across Damian’s lap, softly purring. Both animals were well attuned to his emotions and upon his return offered immediate comfort.

 

Damian was conflicted. The years with his father, with Grayson and the rest of his family he was finally learning how to be _good_ , he was a part of the Teen Titans, had the partnership with Superboy and could always rely on the Bat Family and now he was going to have to throw it all away. He knew if his grandfather came for his life he would not be the only one killed, his family, friends, and allies would face that fate. And while Damian did not doubt any of their abilities he knew the League of Assassins and he knew his grandfather, how far the immortal man is willing to go and how much chaos and suffering would be left in the wake of his retribution.

 

But, Damian also knew only one thing would keep his family from following him when he left. He would have to break Batman’s one rule. Although he couldn’t just go and kill someone, it had to be a steady build of aggression, violence, and disagreements. First he would have to tell his mother to inform Ra’s of his return, and request time to implement his plan.

 

Already planning and strategizing, Damian almost didn’t notice Jon waking up, but the sound of his snores transitioning into little snuffs caught his attention. The other boy sat up, rubbing his eyes, hair even messier than usually and Damian allowed himself to acknowledge the absolute _fondness_ he had for the younger boy and how much he would truly miss him, despite their past differences.

 

Quickly putting those feelings aside Damian shed his blanket and stood up, gently nudging Alfred off his lap, who meowed plaintively. Jon was looking around the bed in sleepy confession but the cat’s meow drew his attention and the smile he gave at the sight of Damian caused his chest to tighten and he could’t stop the small smile he sent back, even if he wanted to, and Damian found he didn’t really want to.

 

“Alright Farmboy, go brush your teeth so we can go down for breakfast, Alfred always has it ready by 8:30.” He said, pushing the younger boy towards the bathroom as he made his way to the door.

 

….

 

After breakfast, Jon dragged Damian outside to play in the snow and almost immediately it devolved into a snowball fight when they were joined by his older brothers. Only when they were soaking wet with melting snow did they return inside and were ushered to sit by the fire with blankets and hot coco by an amused Alfred.

 

Once they were all seated and comfortable presents were opened. Damian forced into a horrible Christmas sweater from Dick and was only consoled by the fact that his family members shared a similar fate. Jon was smiling wearing another one of the matching sweaters with his parents and was pulling on the yarn that made up the reindeer face stitched on Damian’s chest

 

The day was soft, it was the only way Damian could describe it, teasing from Drake and Todd that had no real bite and numerous snuggles from Grayson, who could not keep his affection to himself. Jon content and happy to play games and enjoying the atmosphere. Even his father relaxed, gruff but with a small smile he watched their antics with fondness and even allowed himself to be stuffed into the sweater Grayson had gotten him. Clark and Lois were snuggled on the couch and enjoyed watching their son enjoy the holiday with his best friend.

 

When the Kents left, it was with big smiles and Jon rushing forward to give Damian a hug before rushing to the car, Clark having to balance all their gifts in his arms while Lois thanked them for the invitation.

 

It was bittersweet and Damian watched their departure with a gentle sadness, the following days in the manor consisted of his siblings finding their way back to their own personal residences. Each departure left the great estate emptier and lonelier then the one before until it was just Damian, Alfred and his father. The adults had little time for him as crime in Gotham picked up and when not busy with his vigilante business Damian found that his pets and Jon, through text messages and phone calls, provided the most significant companionship he received for the rest of the holiday break.

 

It was on one evening when patrolling with his father, when they separated and finally Damian had a chance to seek out his mother. It was at the edge of Gotham, a wooded area where the high society of their plagued city vacationed with their comfortable cabins and the illusion of wilderness.

 

Talia had made herself comfortable in one of the cabins, at first glance her appearance was calm, but Damian could see the tension in the set of her shoulders and the fatigue in her eyes. At the sight of him she rose and her green eye brightened, “My son, you have finally come to join me. We do not have much time now, we must go join your grandfather.”

 

“Talia,” Damian began ignoring her open arms and keeping his arms clasped behind his back, “You must convince grandfather to allow me time. This must be well thought out and executed. I will need to play the role of fallen hero, of returned assassin, and damaging the relationship and trust I have built with my family.”

 

His mother appeared hurt by his rejection, though it was quickly hidden by a steely countenance and blank expression.

 

“Of course my beloved son. My love for you is great and I will inform Ra’s of your intentions and new loyalties. He will be pleased with your cunning and planning to prevent Batman and his ilk from hindering any of the League’s plans.” She said, already collecting her cloak.

 

“I must return. I will see you again once my task is complete.”

 

….

 

Damian watched the soft snow fall, only to become immediately contaminated upon reaching the dank and grimy Gotham streets. He heard a scream and firing his grappling hook swung into the all to the familiar scene of a woman concerned in a alley, purse clutched to her chest as she was surrounded by a handful of grubby men armed with knives and their fists.

 

The way they leered at the woman left a sour taste in Damian’s mouth and he found that the task before him would not be so difficult, only the consequences would be hard to bear.

 

Landing as softly as a cat behind the men he saw the woman’s eyes widen in shock, she was young and pretty in a ‘all-american’ way and he wondered briefly how she found herself out this late in this part oftown.

 

Damian did not waste time in incapacitating the men and even after he had them downed he did not stop. He ignored the lady’s horrified shouts when he kept on _hitting_ them and ignored when she ran, calling for help. The men no longer screamed, only groaned and Damian could feel flecks of blood on his face, soaking the kevlar of his gloves.

 

He felt his father’s presence before he heard his dismayed and furious, “ROBIN! STOP NOW!”

 

The boy breathed deeply, straightening and allowing the thug he had beaten unconscious to fall to the cement. His father did not allow him to speak, simply gripped him by he back of his neck, like a misbehaving kitten, and dragged him to the Batmobile. Father’s anger was palatable in the air and Damian sat facing out the window with his arms crossed, preparing to endure the lecture and punishment his father would have for him once they reached the Bat Cave.

 

When they reached the Cave, Alfred was waiting and Damian could tell the old man knew what had occurred.

Jumping out Damian quickly discarded the bloodied gauntlet and gloves, pushing away Titus’ curious muzzle and kicking the discarded items across the cave floor.

 

“Why…Why Damian…You’ve been doing so well…” And now the anger was gone and there was simply disappointment.

 

Damian turned and at the sight of his father’s exhaustion and the sad questioning set of his face had to swallow his words, his explanations and excuses.

 

“Doing well, father? As if I was a dog being trained out of bad habits…those men deserved what I gave them.”

 

“They might die…two are in the ICU and one had more broken bones in his body then he had unbroken.”

 

The young boy let out a shuddery breath and held his head high as he faced his father, “I won’t apologize…maybe they will think twice before they resort to crime.”

 

Almost as an after thought he added, “I will attempt to behave more to your standards next time, father.”

 

“You’re benched for the next two weeks and if I decide that you’re again ready to be Robin you will be allowed to patrol.” His father said before dismissing him with the sight of his back, cloak and cowl discarded.

 

It was the hardest thing to do to walk away and not reveal the truth and all his plans but Damian managed. It hurt because he was just learning how to be _good_ and he had made a friend in Jon and with the Teen Titans and knew what it was to be loved by a true family and not just bound to one by duty.

 

….

 

Damian sat sullenly on the bench overlooking the manor grounds, Titus was joyfully scampering through the fresh snow. It had only been two days since his self-inflicted house arrest and he was already going mad from boredom. It had been tension filled days in the manor, his father refusing to talk to him and Damian stubbornly refusing to apologize or excuse his behaviour. Breakfast was a near silent occasion and he had begun asking for his dinner to be taken to his room

 

Sighing Damian turned to head back inside, calling for the great dane with a whistle. Waiting at the door was a familiar figure. Brushing past Grayson, Damian ushered his dog inside before turning to face his older brother.

 

“Father called you here…I do not require any further reprimands from you.”

 

“Come on can’t a guy just want to see his younger brother?” Dick cajoled nudging Damian with a bright smile and added, “Come on I told Alfred to get some hot coco ready for us.”

 

Damian had to resist the urge to smile back and instead rolled his eyes and sighed like what Grayson was saying was a big chore and annoyance.

 

They ended up taking their coco to the sitting room, where Grayson put on some Disney movie, declaring it was time for a marathon. They ended up spending the evening bundled in blanket with Titus and Alfred settling in their laps, comfortable. Dick never mentioned the incident and when he was leaving, Damian had walked him to the door and was watching put on his boots and jacket with tired eyes, he simply mentioned if the younger boy ever needed anything he was only a phone call away.

 

Damian nodded and wished he could talk to Grayson about his plans but he knew his older brother would be one of the most determined in stopping him. Despite being an expert in self-sacrifice himself, Dick was strict about when Damian would put himself in danger, like when gave himself over to the Court of Owls.

 

Once is his room Damian began to plan the next step in his deception. He had demonstrated aggression while on patrol and once his father allowed him back on he would have to begin defining both his orders and decisions…but he would have to be careful not to put himself or his father in too much danger as to leadto one of them being injured or killed. The criminals of Gotham were always looking for a chance and a single slip up could have dire consequences.

….

 

Weeks passed and Damian was allowed to don his uniform again. His father and Kent decided to join their portals for the evening, Batman sending Robin to Metropolis for the afternoon, since Jon’s outings usually end at around 10, supervised by the big man in blue.

 

Jon seemed nervous when Damian first was dropped off, his father going over to speak to Superman and Damian knew the younger boy could hear what was being said as his face became more nervous and confused. He nudged the other boy.

 

“How’s your pedestrian education been since the holiday break ended?”

 

Jon scowled, but answered readily enough, “Well it’s a bit weird, I’m not used to school in Metropolis yet, and all my friends are still in Hamilton…and I miss the winter on the farm. I guess it’s alright, just boring.”

 

Damian hummed watching the younger closely, seeing nothing in his expression to hint at any deep grievances the older boy was satisfied.

 

“I imagine it will get better, you do have the type of personality that people enjoy. You’ll have new friendsquite soon.”

 

He glanced over his shoulder, his father and Superman already making their way back over, when he turned back to Jon the other boy was smiling brightly.

 

“Thanks, Damian!”

 

“-tt-“ He scoffed, “I don’t see why you’re thanking me, I merely made an observation based on your own character traits and the typical response to them.”

 

Jon’s grin only grew, “Yeah, okay but it was pretty comforting…”

 

“Alright, boys! We’re gonna head out now and then Bruce is gonna come pick you upDamian when Jon’s patrol finishes.”

 

“Are we going to continue our patrol of Gotham afterwards?” Damian directed his question at his father.

 

“Only if you’re not too tired.” His father’s response was distant…distracted.

 

He thought he should respond anyway, “I doubt anything in _Metropolis_ could render me incapable of fulfilling my duty in Gotham.” Damian sniffed arrogantly, ignoring Jon, who rolled his eyes.

 

“Hmm…well behave.”

 

And with those words his father was getting in the Batmobile and driving away.

 

Superman and Superboy flew alongside each other over Damian, who needed to use his grapple gun to travel, they would alert him when they needed to go a certain direction because they found something with their enhanced hearing or sight.

 

It was a good night, an easy night…in the sense there was no tension, no need to please and Superman liberally handed out praise that was appreciated even though Robin sniffed and declared he _of course_ he did an excellent job. Damiandid have to scold Jon for always leaping in front of him when the criminals they would be fighting would pull out a gun, because honestly he knew how to respond to such threats. The younger boy would flush, looking embarrassed, and admit he just wanted to keep his friend safe. And Damian…he was weak to such statements, although before he would have declared such sentiments a weakness, he found in light of where he knew his future was heading that such words warmed his heart and found a special place there. In response he could only shake his head and remind the other boy he had been doing this for much longer and while the idea was noble he needed to remember Damian’s own abilities.

 

“Alright…But if I _really_ think you need a bullet proof shield in _extreme_ situations…can I protect you then?” Jon whined, puppy dog eyes activated and tugging on Damian’s cape.

 

He had rolled his eyes with a ‘-tt-’ but nodded his acceptance and was rewarded with the boy’s pleased grin.

 

Superman watched their interactions with a fondness before telling them that it was time to get to the meeting spot before Jon needed to go home.

 

As they waited for Batman, Damian’s request to simply be allowed to go back to Gotham alone denied, despite the number of times he had made the trip in such circumstances, Jon and him played a Cheese Vikings on his data pad. Competing for high scores…though it was a lost cause for the Kryptonian, he definitely did not play it as much as Damian…although he would never admit that he often went to the arcade with Grayson to play.

 

As he watched Damian manoeuvre the controls Jon seem to hesitate before asking quietly, “What was it like to die?”

 

He was soshocked that he missed a crucial move and died in the game. Damian silently handed the pad to the younger boy so he could take his turn, watching Jon restart the game and noting how Superman glanced at them observing the situation stealthily.

 

He was silent for a moment, considering. Neither knew much about his death or the circumstances around it and truthfully he wanted to speak honestly, feeling that their relationship deserved that.

 

“It hurt…I was so scared…I really thought she wasn’t capable of it-that she loved me enough, that I mattered more to her than power. My mother…she simply watched as the clone she made killed me and I begged for her to stop….”

 

Damian paused for a moment watching the ‘game over’ screen flash, Jon hadn’t been paying close enough attention.

 

Admitting his fear and pain, he didn’t think Jon really knew the significant of such an action, something he had only really been comfortable expressing with Grayson and Alfred, both of who he trusted implicitly.

 

“It was terrible of course but I knew what I was getting into. I knew the risks…but until that moment I never actually expected my mother to have me killed…it was naive and foolish because I knew how ruthless she could be…and yet…” Damian trailed off for a moment, swept up briefly in the memory.

 

“After that I was just a corpse for around a year, sealed and preserved for potential resurrection by my grandfather”

 

“I’m sorry Damian…that’s awful, she’s a terrible mom.” Jon was quick to comfort, though it was obvious the younger boy was at a loss for words he still made an effort and the gentle hand he laid on Damian’s shoulder, belying his Kyrptonian strength, was touching.

 

But, his words bothered Damian, the year of redemption still clear in his mind and his mother’s words regarding how that darkness had been removed and evidence of it being deliberately manufactured. He was offended on behalf of his mother. Damian didn’t often speak of her, the general family temperament being one of distaste and Grayson in particular became very protective when she was mentioned, his anger towards her always burning white hot. But, it was impossible sometimes to stop loving those who hurt you because sometimes the good memories always seemed to take centre stage.

 

Damian shook off Jon’s hand and glared. “She’s not a terrible mother! It was a mistake…she apologized for it”

 

Even to his own ears it sounded like excuses, they fell flat and sounded desperate, like a child determined to prove a point everyone knew to be false.

 

Damian’s eyes itched and he hated how his voice cracked, “My mother loves me and she wasn’t always like that…she was loving…in her own way.”

 

Jon looked like he was at a lost and before Superman could step in, obviously anxious at the rising emotions, the Batmobile pulled up and the passenger door swung open.

 

Standing up from where he had been crouched Damian waited for his friend to stand up as well, already regretful of the tone their good night would end with.

 

“Keep the data pad with you, I expect you to have beaten my high score by the next time we see each other.”

 

The other boy nodded solemnly, his unease painfully evident. Damian surprised himself when he reached forward and hugged the other boy. It was a Grayson reaction he would need to unlearn but seemed appropriate for the moment.

 

“You are a good friend Jon. I am sensitive with these matters and my frustration is not with you but for myself and my own weakness, do not worry yourself.”

 

Jon hugged him back tightly, already smiling, that youthful cheerfulness that was characteristic of him back with full force. Damian quickly detached himself from the embrace. Waving goodbye to the Supers and hopping in the Batmobile, ignoring his father’s curious glance.

 

The drive back to Gotham was uneventful and the night fighting crime even more so. When they got back to the manor Damian slipped into his sleep clothes and into bed with some relief.

 

….

 

The next day, after waking up early and doing his morning exercises, Damian strolled down to the kitchen and ignored his father and Pennyworth seated already in the kitchen enjoying breakfast. He filled Titus’ and Alfred the cat’s food bowls, shushing their ecstatic meows and barks, before reaching for the tea that the attentive butler had already prepared some light scones as accompaniment. Damian ate quickly and thanked Alfred before ushering his pets out of the room.

 

Tonight he was going to finish the plan he started and therefore it was necessary to get his companions out of the manor because if he could not have his family he certainly would have Titus and Alfred the cat. Damian waited in the manor’s garden, throwing the great dane’s ball and scratching the cat behind under the ears. The sight of Goliath, a common sight that would not cause suspicion, the dragon-bat was already strapped with the carriers and the giant softie snuffled as Damian put Alfred who meowed in distaste and led Titus to his by his collar.

 

“Now be careful with them Goliath, we wouldn’t want our friends to get hurt, correct?” Damian, checked the straps looking up at the creature with a cocked eyebrow.

 

Goliath huffed and gently patted where the two animals were strapped to him with confidence. The boy smiled, amused, “All right, I trust you. Now go, I’ll see you all later. This will be our last day in Gotham…”

 

The beast leaned forward, giving Damian a comforting lick before beating his powerful wings in takeoff. The boy returned to his room to pack his most important items in a small bag, his knives and favourite sketchbooks, the useless jade bracelet Grayson bought saying it matched his yes with other useless and stupidly sentimental knickknacks he had collected over his three years wearing the Robin mantel. Damian spent the rest of the afternoon in Gotham, revisting his favourite spots and safety tucking his bag away in an alley and when it was time for patrol he and his father left in silence. The evening was like usual and their patrol was interrupted by Oracle calling all available members to go downtown as Two Face and a gang of over 20 of his men were causing chaos in Gotham Central Bank. Damian followed his father on his grapple line, nodding to Nightwing, Red Robin and Red Hood in acknowledgement when they all convened on a nearbyrooftop.

 

Batman growled out his orders and they listened without complaint. It was almost laughably easy, the men not being too skilled and terrible at aiming with their guns. Damian was easily fighting a trio of men when he saw his chance. He felt his stomach in his throat as he watched one goon run at him with a knife after being previous disarmed of his gun. Damian easily dodged the weapon and after cracking the arm he had thrust forward Damian grabbed the dropped blade and cut the man’s throat, ignoring the criminal’s shocked expression. It was almost too easy to fall into a pattern, muscle memory making it natural to continue to fight with bloodied hands to kill the men left fighting him. He could distantly hear bystanders screaming and he was abruptly grabbed.

 

Damian growled twisting to stab at the enemy and was faced with Grayson’s horrified expression. His older brother carefully grabbed his wrist clenching it so hard that he dropped the knife and ran with him after shooting off a grabble line.

 

“No, no, no!” Nightwing was muttering himself as he skidded on the roof throwing Damian down while maintaining a grip on his bloody hands. “Why would you do this? Oh God-Dami.”

 

The horror and pain numbed the boy and he could only stare up into his brother’s face with a completely blank expression. Until his father, accompanied by Drake and Todd, joined them he simply allowed Grayson to hold him, seemingly holding back tears.

 

Batman wasn’t overcome with horror and pain but rather anger. He stormed forward, gravely voice as threatening as when faced with Gotham’s terrible rogues.

 

“What are you doing!”

 

“It was what they deserved. If we killed our enemies they would not escape Arkham over and over again and others would think before choosing a life of crime following cruel lunatics like the Joker.”

 

Damian was calm in his delivery, not hot headed or emotionally compromised, but confident, “I always rather always agreed with Hood in that regard…I realized a couple of weeks ago that I wasn’t meant to be held back like this.”

 

His father seemed to deflate, “Son…why?”

 

Damian could only tilt his head, staring at his family for the last time before reaching to rip off the “R” on his chest.

 

“I always tried to be what you wanted, but I have seen the truth that your way will always lead to failure. I’m leaving. “

 

Damian turned and shot his grabble gun, fleeing the scene. No one gave chase and Damian was thankful because he didn’t want to actually have to fight them. Collecting his stashed bag he left Gotham without looking back.

…

Talia greeted him at the harbour and this time Damian accepted her embrace, finding the sympathy in her eyes sincere and empathetic.

 

She pulled back to hold his face in her hands, gently brushing a tear from his cheek, “The journey begins now, my son. You must be strong.’

 

“I know, mother.”


End file.
